


To Fall In Love Was My First Mistake

by bodhirookandor



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, fletcher is also a disaster, friends to enemies to lovers if u squint, its TRUE LOVE, pete is a disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 12:29:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodhirookandor/pseuds/bodhirookandor
Summary: Oh, how strong can you be with matters of the heart?-----Peter is jealous. Fletcher is stupid. Dick...exists.aka i want to write something where ppl fight because all relationships, platonic or not, have ups and downs and im sick of this uwu bullshit give me realistic character dynamics that evolve over time or give me DEATHno one asked for this and i dont care





	To Fall In Love Was My First Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> rich and dick are the same person. his name is richard watson.

Rich this, Rich that. Of course he’s hanging out with him again. When wasn’t he?

Pete was filled with disgust as Fletcher laughed at a stupid joke. ‘Dick’s not even that funny...they’re just fucking around...He used to do that with me.’ His mind filled with quiet anger. ‘He doesn’t even want to room with me anymore...He just third-wheels Dick and John, It’s fuckin’ weird…’

He had to restrain the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. This is rehearsal, the other boys are around. Now was not the time for a breakdown. ‘He was my best friend. But Dick just HAS to ruin it.’ He mentally punched himself in the face for that one. ‘No, no. I shouldn’t pin this on him. I’m sure he doesn’t know.’

Daryl could see something was bothering Pete. He was unusually quiet. And he wasn’t combative, or loud, or causing a scene. ...Something was very wrong. He shot the guitar player a sympathetic smile, but he was just met with just being looked away from.

“Can we just focus, please?” Pete spat. “I am not postponing a tour because we aren’t doing shit.”

“Uh, Yeah,” Daryl chimed in. “There’s a couple pieces I’m not quite getting yet, and it looks bad if I have sheet music…” He was sweating bullets. That was such a bullshit excuse. But he just wanted to help. The poor red-headed lad seemed so high strung the past few days.

Irritation and bitterness snuck in to Pete’s tone. “Yeah...the drum parts aren’t that steady on some of them, either,” which was a direct jab at Fletcher.

He could tell. It stung a little. 

“Alright! From the top, then.” Dick began the countdown but a moment later.

Peter couldn’t focus on anything else except the trio for the day. John and Dick had always been an ‘at-the-tip’ couple, a package deal, but Fletcher being so heavily involved was a problem. ‘No, no. I’m not jealous of the thought of them hooking up. Not even a little. Not I.” The thought consumed Pete. He couldn’t focus. His hands were failing him. He couldn’t even form chords properly. “I’m heading to my room.”

Daryl seemed confused. “Are you alright, Pete? You’ve not seemed yourself.”

Pete was used to Daryl ‘dadding’ the rest of the band around. “Good. Just didn’t sleep well.”

Daryl knew it was bullshit. The other three seemed to buy it. Pete didn’t care. Fletcher didn’t even call him out anymore. 

Thankfully the walk was a short one. Their studio was right by the hotel. He twisted the key, and opened up to the lifeless void of a bedroom he inhabited. This was a terrible idea. Now he’s alone and feeling like shit. A fantastic combination. He didn’t bother to lock the door. He figured that either Daryl or Gene would be up at some point to try and get some answers. He flopped onto the bed, practically throwing his glasses onto the bedside table. As the tendrils of sleep dragged him inwards, a memory flashed across his mind.

The slightly taller man leaned onto Peter for support. Pete hated being the DD, but it was his turn tonight, and that’s how it was done. His thoughts were shortly interrupted. Fletcher was mumbling some nonsense, but it seemed to be making himself laugh. “Alright, Fletch. You’re fucked. You need to go home.”

“...You’re hot.”

No, there’s no way he heard that right. “...What?” Pete asked.

“You’re handsome, Pete. A pretty boy, I might add.”

“...Yep. You’re going home, you’re completely fucked.” He just wanted to steer his mind from how long Fletcher stared at him. He wasn’t sure if he could handle much more than the five minute drive from the bar to their hotel.

Guiding Fletcher up the elevator, and down the hall a few meters to the room. Unlocking the door, he had to practically drag Fletcher inside, holding his hand the whole time.

It started again. “...Would you kiss me, Peter?”

‘...Yeah.’ Pete thought to himself. Looking at the other man’s puppy eyes and handsome face, he almost gave in. But if Fletcher remembered the next morning? Especially if he couldn’t stand the thought of it then? Nope. Not happening.

“...You need to go to bed.” Peter dodged Fletcher’s question.

“Will you share a bed with me?” Peter couldn’t even look at him. He knew he’d end up saying yes if he did.

“I’ll be where I always am, if you need something. It’s fine. Get some sleep. You know where I’ll be.”

And that was that. The night that started the rift between Fletcher and Pete. It ran through Pete’s mind almost constantly. He couldn’t stand it. 

The door creaked open. It was a faster creak, not a slow creak like when parents check to see if their kids are actually asleep. He figured it was Daryl, as Gene always opened the door slowly and gently. Pete was facing the other wall, however, so he couldn’t see. He groaned through a pillow. “I’m fine, Daryl-”

Someone else cut him off. “Dude, what the fuck? You’ve been really strange lately. What’s going on?”

It was Fletcher.

Pete turned around and sat up. He wasn’t sure how he was feeling. “...I’m strange lately? We used to be so close, Fletch. Now you won’t even look at me. Don’t think I haven’t overheard you and Gene talking, I know you’re considering quitting the band.”

Fletcher opened his mouth, but quickly shut it.

“Exactly! Just go hang out with your new best friends. You’re happier with them anyway.” Pete really hissed that last part out, while flipping around and throwing himself back on the bed.

“...That’s what this is? Look, Pete. I’ll get over it. But it’s hard to look at you right now. To be alone with you. I need some time. Some space.”

“...The fuck does that mean?” Pete was equal parts confused and pissed off. 

“You know what I mean, Peter. You rejected me.”

Fletcher continued once he realized he wouldn’t get a response. “You used to share a bed with me all the time. Remember that first night where no one could figure out what room you were in? It was me that stepped up. Hell, sharing a bed was your idea!” Fletcher grew more and more volatile with each word.

Pete just grew cold. “You were drunk. I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

“I wasn’t that drunk!” Fletcher retorted.

“You were mumbling to yourself saying nonsense words and laughing. I couldn’t even hear you most of the time.”

“I do that sober, Peter!” Fletcher grew increasingly frustrated with Pete’s indifference.

...And now he felt bad. He was right. Fletcher does do that while sober. And he thought Peter rejected him. That stung. Pete’s cold anger rapidly receded, leaving a tide of devastation to wash up instead. ‘Fuck.’ was the only thing his brain could come up with.

Peter let out a sigh. This wasn’t an exasperated sigh, nor an angry one. This was...something else. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I just...I was just so shocked I sent myself into denial. You’re fuckin’ awesome, Fletch. I mean really. You ran away at 16. Made it to NYC by yourself. That’s real shit. I guess...I guess I don’t want to think that I’m worth enough for someone like you to see value in me, you know?” Pete tried to hide a voice crack and some tears beginning to stream down his face. He failed.

Fletcher didn’t know what to do. Or say. He really didn’t know anything.

So he did the one thing he did know. He lied down beside the other man, brushed his hair off his face, and pecked him on the forehead.

There was a moment of hesitation, before in a split second motion, Pete flipped over and grabbed Fletcher; shoving himself into a deep hug with him in his arms and burying his face in Fletcher’s chest. His voice was quiet, but clear. “...I love you.”

Fletcher ruffled Pete’s hair, waiting until he was almost asleep beside him.

“I love you too.”


End file.
